


Let it be this Easy

by dreamlittleyo



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Explicit Language, Kissing, M/M, Romance, Schmoop, Sexual Content, Sibling Incest, Wincest - Freeform, Wordcount: 1.000-5.000, Wordcount: Over 1.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-17
Updated: 2011-04-17
Packaged: 2017-10-18 05:27:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/185521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreamlittleyo/pseuds/dreamlittleyo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Unrepentant schmoop. Sam and Dean hunt, but there's plenty of time for other things. 30+ kisses in 1200 words.<br/></p>
            </blockquote>





	Let it be this Easy

"Rise and shine, princess," comes Dean's voice, warm and bright and too goddamned chipper for five a.m. Sam groans and squeezes his eyes shut, burying his face as far as he can into the pillow.

"Come on, dude," Dean says, and this time he's wearing his authoritative voice. Sam gives a startled yelp as a totally unwarranted hand slaps his ass hard enough to knock him completely awake. "We've got to get to the church _before_ the service starts if we want to sweep the whole building."

Sam groans and flops onto his back, blinking at Dean with bleary eyes. He can't pull off a glare, but he tries anyway. Dean doesn't just look chipper—the bastard's gloating or something, so Sam does the only thing he can think of for retribution. He gets a hand tangled in Dean's shirt and drags him down to the bed, kissing him deep and sweet and good-morning-to-you-too-baby.

Dean squeaks and shoves and finally gets away, and mutters, "Fuck you and your morning breath, bitch."

Sam brushes his teeth and gets dressed, and he makes sure the door is locked behind them as they step out of the motel room and into the parking lot.

"Hey," he says, catching Dean by the wrist and pulling him close. Dean smirks at him, tilting his head back to look up at Sam, lips parted just slightly. Open invitation. Sam dips in for a kiss, forces himself to keep it quick. "Good morning," he says when he pulls back.

"Morning yourself," says Dean with a wry smile. Then his eyebrows knit together and he barks, "Hey!" when he reaches in his pocket for the car keys comes up empty.

Sam laughs and dangles the keys in open challenge, lifting them out of reach when Dean makes a wild grab.

"Gotta stop letting yourself get distracted," says Sam, but he finally tosses them back and climbs into the passenger seat. He's content to let his brother take the wheel this time.

The sunrise is still staggering pinks and purples along the horizon as they drive down main street and then turn off onto County Road C. The parking lot of Ascension Lutheran Church is empty and the lock is easy to pick, and Sam pulls out a flashlight that won't be necessary for long as Dean clicks his EMF meter on.

"God damnit," says Dean, but before Sam can ask if he ought to be panicking, Dean adds, "Batteries are dead. I should've checked them last night."

But that's easy enough, because Sam's got spare _everything_ in the rucksack on his shoulder. He pulls out two double-A's and hovers closer than necessary when he hands them over.

"Aw, thanks, baby." Dean grins cheekily. "You always give me the best presents." But he leans up for a kiss that's a whole lot more genuine than his sarcastic thanks, and anyway Sam secretly likes it when his brother calls him 'baby'. It sends a private thrill down his spine every time, and one of these days he's going to find a way to bring it up that won't end with Dean laughing his ass off and calling Sam a girl.

They get some suspicious readings in the back corner of the sanctuary, between the organ and the choir loft, so they stay for the service just to see if anything out of the ordinary happens.

It doesn't.

Sam spends the entire time fighting the ridiculous urge to reach over and take Dean's hand. He opens the hymnal and mumbles along to all the songs, faking nonchalance the best he can—he wouldn't want this entire church full of strangers to know that he's completely in love with the way Dean sings along like he actually knows the music.

He can't resist once they're back out in the parking lot, and he kisses Dean before his brother can climb behind the wheel. Short and sweet, and Dean gives him a soft, humoring smile when Sam lets him go.

"I think you might have just made it a little awkward when we have to interview the pastor," says Dean once they're both in the car, but there's bright contentment in his voice. He leans across the seat and, quick like a ninja, plants another one on Sam's startled lips.

"Hey," he says with a shrug when Sam just leers at him. "Ship's sailed, why not let it keep sailing awhile?" They follow the slow string of cars out of the parking lot, and Dean waves at the pastor's wife on their way past.

Lunch is a quiet, friendly diner where Sam leans across the table and kisses Dean fast and deep just to make sure the pretty waitress knows his brother is a taken commodity. Not that Sam lacks faith in Dean's fidelity, but his brother can't help the flirting. Easier to head things off from the start, and their waitress—Suzy, her red nametag says—is pleasant and efficient and doesn't make eyes at Dean once.

The entire afternoon is a fruitless library search—which should be frustrating as hell, except that every time Dean stands up to fetch a new box of records he swoops down to catch Sam's mouth in a kiss, like it's some kind of ritual or maybe an attempt at keeping their morale high. It's plenty motivating, if Sam's going to be honest with himself, and anyway there are so many damned records to go through that it's easily a three-day job—unless they miraculously stumble across what they're looking for by the end of today, which isn't looking too likely. So yeah, Sam will take all the motivation he can get, and that puts them somewhere in the neighborhood of twenty kisses by the time the sun is setting and the librarian is kicking everyone out—not that Sam's been counting.

"Better luck tomorrow?" Dean hopes aloud as the car doors slam shut and Sam digs for the room key.

"Sure," says Sam. "The right file's in there somewhere. Just a matter of finding it."

Back inside, Dean gives him a different sort of kiss: the kind of kiss where Sam ends up shoved against the wall with his arms full of Dean and his heart beating wildly in his ears. He teases his tongue past Dean's lips, pushes against his brother's body in a mock struggle for dominance, but the _real_ goal is to get his brother closer to the bed. Bed and then naked and then groaning noisily enough to bother their neighbors on either side—because Dean's not quiet by nature, and he's the loudest Sam has ever known when he gets riled in bed. Quieter during tender moments, sure, but Sam likes the wild animal in his brother—the hungry, needy version of Dean that comes out when Sam's cock is sliding into him, when Dean is pressed into the mattress and fucked the way he needs.

 _That's_ what Sam is aiming for tonight, and he barely stops kissing Dean long enough to strip him—long enough to yank their clothes away in an urgent frenzy—before dropping Dean against the pillows and taking his place between his brother's thighs.

His mouth is on Dean's when Sam's dick slides home, and all Sam can think is, ' _Perfect_.'


End file.
